" That's not good enough for me," I answered. "Eleven." My fingers were now starting to build up momentum inside her."That's too early," she protested..."You're right," I answered, "We don't want to do anything too early." I started to pull my hand out from under her skirt. Quickly, she released the wheel of the car with one hand, and gripped my wrist with surprising strength."Don't stop!" she said, a hint of anger in her voice. I just sat staring at her without response. "Okay, you shit!" she. I returned to studying her curvature, admiring the perfection of her imperfect frame, watching, wondering, daring. Then began the two betrayals. My body would no longer listen to the signals I was trying to send it. As if possessed, I no longer could admire her body from afar. What was once acquaintance became passion, what was once a passing glance became a blatant stare, and what was once a boundary became a goal post. By what right did I approach her? Ever so gently and slowly so as to not. More

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